Survival
by LadyLindariel
Summary: COMPLETE/REVISED The ride of Imladris' two esteemed Lords bring unexpected consequences and a race for survival of the fittest. Erestor, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond Rated T plus for some elements of torture. This is set before the War of the Ring
1. I Guess You Were Right

**A/N:** This story was thought up by Pip the Dark Lord of All. She had so many other stories she couldn't find time to write this one and wanted it done, so she was kind enough to hand over the task of giving this story life. So, without further ado, I give you Survival!

Pip I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.

* * *

Glorfindel whistled a merry tune to himself as he carefully folded a spare cloak into his pack. Although the sun was shining brightly presently, the twice-born warrior knew how quickly the weather could change if it wanted to.

He and Erestor were going on an "adventure," as the Chief Counselor called it this day. In Glorfindel's mind, it was only a week-long trip in the forest's surrounding the Last Homely House to drag the dark-haired elf away from his desk for a while.

Erestor was always so busy, cooped up inside his study, writing reports, translating documents, and of course, reading that Glorfindel thought it a grand idea to take Erestor out on a hiking trip for the week. Of course, Erestor thought it preposterous, as usual, and wouldn't hear of it. He stood his ground and refused to let the golden-haired elf sway his mind.

So naturally, Glorfindel went to Lord Elrond and persuaded him to agree with him, using the argument that Erestor was working himself too hard and needed a break.

"Elrond, he is cooped up in his study all day every day. He hardly stirs from it except for meals." Glorfindel stood in Lord Elrond's study, trying to convince the Lord of Imladris his advisor needed some time away from his library and study.

"I hardly think he will agree to this Glorfindel." Elrond raised one eyebrow at his longtime friend. "You know yourself how stubborn he can be when it suits him."

A smile made its way onto Glorfindel's face. "He will not refuse if it is you that gives him the order – he needs the break."

Elrond stood behind his desk, his finger absently playing with the quill he had left on the smooth polished wood. "I understand your argument all too well Glorfindel," he sighed. "Very well, I give you my permission to take Erestor out with you. But please do not antagonize him as you sometimes have a habit of doing!"

Glorfindel had the grace to blush as this was said. It was true; he and Erestor were often at each other's throats, but for the most, it was playful fun that was harmless. "I promise I will not." With a spring in his steps, he turned to ready his pack.

Smiling, Glorfindel remembered the look of pure horror on Erestor's face as Lord Elrond informed him he would be accompanying Glorfindel on his trip.

"But Lord Elrond I cannot possibly go! I have those trade documents to write up for you!" Erestor wailed in annoyance, but Elrond was not to be swayed. Glorfindel stood behind him, smirking slightly.

Elrond sighed. Why did he let Glorfindel talk him into this? "Erestor you spend too much time in here," he gestured around the room. "You must allow yourself some free time every now and again. Glorfindel has graciously offered to take you with him on his trip."

Erestor glared at the golden-haired warrior standing behind his lord. "I cannot. I am sorry, but I have documents to write, reports due and other various items that need doing which cannot be done by anyone else."

"I will have someone else write them up for me. You need a break from that desk of yours. Now go and prepare. Glorfindel leaves at first light on the morrow!"

Erestor spluttered indignantly as Elrond turned and left him alone and speechless in his chambers. Glorfindel had a smile of pure smugness etched on his face as he followed Elrond out.

Finishing his packing and snapping his pack closed, Glorfindel grabbed his long-curved sword and bow and went to Erestor's chambers to see how things were faring.

"Are you almost packed and ready to go?" Glorfindel asked cheerily as he entered the room.

Erestor glared daggers at him. "As a matter of fact, yes, I am… and don't expect any civilized conversation either. I'm still unhappy about being forced into going on this heinous trip."

Glorfindel merely smirked. "As you wish, but you will thank me for this later… just you wait and see!" He turned to leave the room but stopped on the threshold. "Oh, and you might want to bring that sword of yours. You know the one you have hanging on the wall as a decoration because you have no use for it anymore as you are always stuck in your study?"

He ducked the book that came flying in his direction with a laugh. "I shall see you at the main gates in a few moments."

Leaving the room, Glorfindel quickly proceeded to the main gates and leaned lazily against the large statue, waiting for Erestor to show himself.

A few minutes later, he looked up to see his traveling companion, lugging his pack along with a scowl on his face while grumbling about being forced into going on such a ridiculous trip, his sword hanging at his hip.

Glorfindel just laughed and shook his golden head. "Erestor, please don't look too excited about this!" he said brightly while picking up his bag and sword.

Erestor shot a glare at him. "Don't press your luck, Glorfindel. Lord Elrond only said I had to go; he didn't say I had to enjoy it or be civilized." But deep down, Erestor was a little excited; however, he would never admit this to Glorfindel. "Now, can we please hurry this up and get going. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back and the sooner I can return to my lovely, peaceful, adventure-less life."

"You call spending all your days, reading and writing reports, a life? My dear friend, you need to broaden your activities," Glorfindel smirked. Earning a glare from the Chief Advisor, the two elves headed out the gates of the Last Homely House and started off into the trees.

At first, Erestor struggled to keep up with the energetic strides of Glorfindel, as he was not accustomed to all the vigorous walking. Glorfindel, on the other hand, was whistling away a merry tune and skipping over an occasional rock or fallen branch. Erestor continued to glare at his back as he followed him at a slower pace.

Finally, after about three hours of vigorous walking, Erestor managed to catch up with his friend. "Do you mind telling me where we are heading? It seems to me we are not heading in any particular direction." He was slightly breathless and longed for a break.

"Oh, Erestor, so you finally managed to catch up, and you are talking! Well, to be honest, I don't know where we are going, exactly," Glorfindel replied.

Erestor was shocked. "You don't know where we are going? How can you not know where we are going?" he responded, almost ready to strangle his friend. "I thought we were going someplace particular, not wandering around in the forest!"

Glorfindel chuckled and patted the dark-haired elf on the back. "Relax Erestor. I just meant I don't have a particular place in mind. I'm letting my feet take us wherever they might. We are not lost if that is what you think." Boy, sometimes Erestor can be so dramatic, Glorfindel thought with a shake of his head.

"How much longer until we get to our final destination for the night?" Erestor asked curiously. Although he did not want to appear interested, he could not help himself as he admired the beauty of nature all around him.

Glorfindel thought for a few minutes before answering. "Oh, I'd say about another hour; two at the most. Just try to enjoy yourself! This is supposed to be relaxing." He patted his friend gently on the shoulder and quickened his stride once again.

"It's hard to relax when I'm lugging this pack on my shoulders, all these nasty mosquitoes are buzzing around, and you are walking as if you were training the new guards! Left! Right! Left! Right," Erestor growled. "Besides," he added, "I was relaxing when I was back in the library with a good book or even playing chess with you on our chess nights."

Glorfindel just chuckled again and continued walking. Erestor sighed and picked up the pace of his feet. Of all things, he did not want to lose Glorfindel in the forest. Valar knows what could happen then. It was a thought he did not want to think about, and he shuddered slightly.

Finally, after a long hike, they came upon a small glen near a small stream. "We're here," Glorfindel announced, setting his pack down and beginning to lay out his bedroll.

"Are you sure?" Erestor asked, also setting his pack down. He glanced around uneasily. He was not used to spending the night out in the open.

"Of course, I'm sure! This place is perfect for the evening. We can look up at the stars, dip our feet in the stream and we are perfectly safe from any possible night raids. I will start a small fire in a moment and then search for some game."

Erestor wasn't too sure about the last bit, but he had to admit this was a pretty relaxing spot. Maybe Glorfindel did know what he was talking about and he did need a good break from his work.

When Erestor finished getting settled, he helped Glorfindel get wood for a fire, and after it was lit, Glorfindel went out hunting for something to eat. About an hour later, Glorfindel came back with a nice buck, and he helped prepped it to cook over the fire on a spit.

While the meat was roasting, the two friends went to the stream and talked about nothing in particular, as Glorfindel was prone to babble about the most ridiculous things – which meant Erestor was mostly listening. Finally, they caught the smell of roasted venison; a sure sign dinner was done.

They ate in silence enjoying the sounds of nature. After Glorfindel was finished, he cleaned off his hands and lay down on his back looking up at the night sky.

"Isn't this the life?" Glorfindel asked after a while breaking the silence. "This is the one good thing about going on patrols. I get to experience the wonders of nature. Granted, the twins are usually with me, but this is nice too."

Erestor finished his food and cleaned up, taking a place beside Glorfindel. "What do you think the twins are doing right now?" Erestor asked, already knowing the answer – the twin sons of Elrond were never far from mischief.

Glorfindel smirked to himself. "Probably finding some unsuspecting elf to pull one of their pranks on, since you and I aren't there to be the victims," he said, turning towards his friend grinning. Erestor's lips twitched before the two of them burst out laughing.

"Oh, I have to admit, I don't envy that poor elf – whoever he may be. Thank you for bringing me here. I have to admit you were right," Erestor said, turning his gaze back up to the sky.

"Alright, who are you and what did you do with Erestor?" Glorfindel could not believe that Erestor had admitted he was right!

Erestor grunted. "You heard me and don't get too comfortable with any compliments. If anyone asks me, I will outright deny it."

"As you wish." Glorfindel turned his head to look at his friend and could have sworn he saw him smile. "You're welcome though." Glorfindel resumed watching the night sky, as Eärendil shone brightly above neither aware of the danger that was looming in the shadows.


	2. Orcs and Wargs

Glorfindel awoke with a start. He had been deep in reverie when his sharp ears heard the unmistakable sound of orcs close by. He sat up, listening intently. Was it real or just his mind imagining things? He waited, the stillness of the night making him feel more uneasy. Slowly he stood and reached for his sword. He did not want to wake Erestor who was sleeping peacefully nearby if it was a false alarm.

If Erestor even got a hint there were orcs nearby, he would march straight back to the Last Homely House without delay, and Glorfindel did not want to hike through the forest during the middle of the night.

Straining his ears, Glorfindel picked up the sounds of harsh growls and ear-piercing shrieks deeper into the woods: orcs were approaching. The elf crouched low and listened, his heart racing in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, they would miss the two elves.

As the shrieks and growls grew louder, he stood up. The pack of orcs was not going to pass them by. No, they were going to stumble upon them if he did not act fast. Quickly he crossed the camp and proceeded to rouse Erestor.

"Erestor, take up your sword! We are under attack!" he exclaimed to his friend, who, by now, was also wide awake.

The dark-haired elf sat up, shaking slightly. "I thought you said this area was safe from orcs, Glorfindel!" he shouted to at his friend while taking up his sword and scrambling to his feet. He sent a death glare at the other elf when he received no answer.

"Well, I was wrong!" Glorfindel was among one of the best warriors in the valley of Imladris, followed closely by Elladan and Elrohir – whom Glorfindel had personally trained – and their father, Lord Elrond. Erestor, however, even though he had some experience with the sword, was not a warrior.

"How many do you think there are?" Erestor asked, fear beginning to grow in him. He had never actually had cause to use a sword, even though he had been trained in the basics of self-defense. Although his skill was little, it would be more than an average human's skills.

"It's hard to say, but from the sounds of it, I'd say at least a dozen, possibly more. Just stay close to me, and you'll be fine." Glorfindel knew Erestor was not a fighter, and if they were to become separated, it would be more than likely Erestor would be cut down. He did not want that to happen. Although Erestor was sometimes annoying and often angry with the littlest thing, he was a true and loyal friend.

Several orcs burst through from under the trees into the clearing and began their assault on the two elf lords. Glorfindel immediately began to fire arrow after arrow at the orcs, striking them down one after the other. As soon as the arrows were gone, he had no choice but to start in on hand-to-hand combat. Glorfindel was relentless as he continued his counter-assault on the orcs, striking them down as they came in near distance to him and Erestor. He did his best to keep them from breaking past him, but he could feel himself beginning to tire. As his eyes quickly surveyed the ring of bodies starting to pile up around him, he realized he had vastly underestimated the number of his enemy.

It soon became evident to him this was not some lone pack of scouts. This was a group sent out for a purpose. A purpose which was not meant to fail in any way.

Erestor could tell his friend was starting to lose energy and tire, and if he did not do something, and fast, Glorfindel would end up being overpowered and most likely killed. He did not know what possessed him to take up his sword and begin his attack, all he knew was he ran forward and began to aid his friend.

"What are you doing Erestor? You'll get yourself killed!" Glorfindel yelled at his friend. "Get out of here!"

"What does it look like, genius, I'm helping you!" Erestor snapped as he started to hack the orcs down. "I am not going to leave you to these foul creatures on your own!" he yelled back over the crash of steel against steel.

The two elves fought restlessly onwards, refusing to give into the orcs. Just as they were gaining the upper hand and the battle seemed to be drawing to a close, two warg riders burst through the trees and began to assail Glorfindel and Erestor from either side. At the sight of the creatures, fear struck Erestor, who had frozen upon the entrance of the giant, ravenous beasts. The large wargs growled and snapped as they approached the two elves, drooling at the mouth. They were a terrifying sight to behold, their eyes glowing a deep dark red.

One of the wargs saw Erestor, and with teeth bared and a deep growl charged straight at him. The warg could sense the fear rolling off the elf and knew he would be an easy target. The orc atop him, laughed harshly as they drew near.

Glorfindel, who had just slain the other creature, looked back at his friend and saw what was going to happen with horror in his heart.

In a split decision, Glorfindel threw himself in between him and his friend. As Glorfindel raised his sword to deliver the killing blow to the neck of the creature, the warg sunk his deadly sharp fangs into the mighty warrior's torso.

Glorfindel felt the searing, white-hot pain of the teeth piercing through his flesh, and heard the unmistakable sound of his ribs snapping under pressure. He let out a blood-curdling scream as he was lifted off the ground and shaken like a rag doll before the warg finally threw him across the glen, where he slammed hard into a tree.

Everything went black, and Glorfindel knew no more.


	3. Captured

Elrond was in his sleeping quarters, deep in reverie, when he awoke with a start. He frowned as he stared up at the massive wooden beams that vaulted the ceiling. Something was not right. He could feel it. The elf-lord looked around, trying to think of what could have possibly distressed him at this hour as nothing seemed to be out of place. When he had calmed himself, he reached out to his children through the bond he shared with them. No, everything was all right with them, so what was bothering him like this?

He concentrated his mind on searching through his realm and the borders encircling it, seeking any disturbance. But as he found nothing, he began to feel even more agitated. He tried to rest, but the feeling was growing more intense. What could be wrong? The valley was silent, his children safe, the household staff at rest. All of a sudden it hit him hard…Glorfindel and Erestor! They were not here; they had left on their trip.

As he used his energy to try and reach out to them, his worry grew steadily worse. Elrond tried communicating with them but received nothing back. It was then he knew his fear had to do with them; something was terribly wrong with his seneschal and chief advisor.

Immediately Elrond stood and rushed to his sons' room, shaking them awake. "Elladan, Elrohir, wake up now!"

The twins woke up and gazed groggily at their father. "What is it?" Elladan asked. He knew it had to be something important, for their father would never wake him and his brother up like this, especially just after coming back from a long patrol.

"Something is wrong with Erestor and Glorfindel," Elrond said, struggling to keep his composure. "I can feel it."

At this, both the twins were up out of bed and getting dressed. "Are you certain?" Elrohir asked as he pulled on his leggings.

"I'm positive. I am not sure what, but when I reached out to them, I did not get any response back. No, something has happened, and we must find them quickly."

Elladan and Elrohir shared a glance with one another; deep concern etched on their faces. Quickly they both finished dressing and donned their weapons. For the elf-lord to be as worried as he was, something terrible must have happened.

Meanwhile, their father had left to ready himself. He knew if neither Glorfindel nor Erestor was answering him, then one or both of them were seriously hurt, and speed was crucial.

Elrond hastily finished dressing, grabbed his sword, Hadhafang, along with healing supplies, and left to meet up with his sons. "We leave at once! I fear what could have happened."

The twins nodded swiftly, their dark eyes worried, and quickly went to the stables as their father told Lindir where they were going.

The three of them mounted their steeds and left Imladris at once, praying to the Valar to guide their way and protect their friends. The only sounds were the horses' hooves on the soft earth. No one said anything as they rode hard into the night, but all had the same fear written in their minds…what had happened to the missing elves, and were they still alive?

* * *

Erestor had watched with horror as Glorfindel was grabbed by the warg and thrown across the glen, where he had smashed his head against the tree. When he did not get up or move, the chief advisor feared the worst.

Erestor only had seconds to act before the warg that had attacked his friend made its move toward him. He had sprung out of the way seconds before the warg reached him, barely avoiding the foul beast's gnashing teeth. Erestor knew he had to kill the beast and reach Glorfindel before it was too late, and with a new wave of energy and determination, just as the warg was getting ready to leap again, Erestor lunged. At that instant, the warg charged – and Erestor's sword stabbed it through the snout. As the warg fell, howling with pain, the Noldo raised his sword, and with one quick stroke, rammed his sword through the beast's neck.

When he was sure it was dead, he quickly ran to Glorfindel. The golden-haired elf was not moving at all, but Erestor saw he was alive, if barely. He knew he had to get his friend back to Imladris and fast, but he did not know how he was going to do it. They had not taken a horse with them, nor were they near enough to Imladris for him to leave Glorfindel and fetch help.

As he was contemplating these things, Erestor failed to notice the several orcs lurking in the trees with malicious grins as they watched the two lone elves. Erestor was just getting ready to try and move Glorfindel when the attack happened. The dark-haired elf heard the snapping of branches and the feral growl of the orcs, and he jumped. He reached swiftly for his weapon, but with a jolt, he realized he had left it by the dead warg. He cursed his stupidity. The orcs sneered at Erestor with a look that made his blood run cold.

"What's wrong, elf scum? Did you lose something?" one orc snarled at him, laughing as another pulled the sword from the warg and waved it around in the air with an air of triumph.

Before Erestor could grab Glorfindel's sword, another orc lunged at him. The elf did not have time to react, and he felt a searing pain as a sharp blade sank into his upper arm. Erestor screamed in agony as it found its way deep into him. When the orc yanked it from the elf's trembling body, Erestor fell to his knees. As he looked up into the red eyes of his enemy, another orc came up and with a swift, hard blow to his head, rendered him unconscious. Before everything went black, he called out with all the strength he could muster, in a mental plea for help to Elrond.


	4. From Bad to Worse

Erestor groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He had no recollection of how long he had been out, but from what he could see through disoriented eyes, it was still dark. He tried to get an idea of where he was, but he was still dazed by the violent blow to his head, and could not remember much of anything.

Closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths, he was relieved when his vision finally began to clear. But intense fear clenched its icy claws tightly into Erestor's gut when he realized the horrific reality he was being held in an orc camp inside of a large cavern. The cave was dark and damp, consisting of numerous twists and turns, and it smelled of rotting corpses. Despite being an elf, he could not help but feel a cold draft, even though it was the middle of summer.

Erestor looked around more carefully, studying his surroundings, and it was then he spotted them – orcs! About half a dozen squatted near the entrance of their cell and judging by their size and appearance he was able to determine they were scouts. They were brown in color with slanted yellow eyes and flat noses. Their mouths were wide, with sharp fangs protruding from between thin lips. Upon closer observation, Erestor could see they had long, dangly arms, standing much smaller than the average orc. They were just slightly larger than a hobbit, which meant they were easily disposed of, so they were typically used to keep watch over unimportant prisoners, or to keep an eye and ear out for any possible intruders.

Erestor knew he had to get out, but the more he tried to move, the more his head throbbed as a massive wave of nausea overcame him. As he lay there, he winced as his sharp ears picked up the sound of the grotesque voices of many other orcs gathered further down from where they were being held. He was able to tell by the voices they were larger orcs – probably commanding their scrawny slaves – but despite the acute hearing of the elves, he was not yet able to make out what they were saying. He was not sure he even wanted to.

Closing his eyes, Erestor tried harder to remember what had happened. They had been camping, and then the warg had attacked him. He remembered Glorfindel being hurled against the tree, and then he fell unconscious just as more orcs had appeared from between the trees. After that, all he could remember was a haze of pain and rage.

But where was Glorfindel? The blond warrior was nowhere in sight.

He moved slightly and gasped with pain as the wound on his arm began bleeding anew. Cursing silently to himself, he gently probed the injury – thankfully the arm was not broken. Tearing a strip off his cloak, he quickly bandaged his forearm, effectively stopping the bleeding. However, he could do naught with the throbbing headache but wait for it to cease.

Once he had finished caring for his injuries, he looked around himself to see if he could find Glorfindel. As his eyes roved across the length of the cave, he saw him. There, laying in a heap and still not moving, was his friend. Erestor swallowed hard. Why wasn't he moving? Erestor began to move toward Glorfindel, but each time he attempted to move, he would be assailed by bouts of dizziness and excruciating pain from his arm. He stopped only briefly each time, and once it had passed, he forced himself to get as close to Glorfindel as he could without attracting the attention of the enemy.

Looking closer, Erestor tried to rouse him. "Glorfindel, wake up, my friend!" he murmured in a soothing voice. But still, Glorfindel did not stir. I must try and find out what is wrong with him, Erestor thought to himself. The dark-haired elf gently probed his friend's wounds to figure out the extent of his injuries. As he looked more closely, he gasped at what he saw: Glorfindel's head had a large gash just above his right brow, and his torso had huge, gaping puncture wounds from his lower abdomen to his upper ribs. As he felt for any broken bones, Erestor could detect nasty dark bruises and felt the unmistakable feeling of broken ribs. Leaning carefully over his friend, he laid a gentle hand on Glorfindel's abdomen and could tell by the softness there was internal bleeding. He knew if Glorfindel weren't treated swiftly, he would die. Erestor ripped part of his cloak again and cleaned and dressed his friend's wounds as best as he could.

Erestor cursed silently at himself for his stupidity. If only he had not frozen, Glorfindel would not be hurt, and they would never have been captured. Now because of him, they were in an orc camp, and his friend was dying.

As he lost himself in his thoughts, he was interrupted by the sound of several orcs coming toward him, followed closely by a larger one Erestor figured must be the leader.

"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to wake up, boys!" the larger Orc growled with a menacing laugh.

"Who are you, and what do you want from us?" Erestor asked, hoping his voice did not betray the fear that rose relentlessly inside him.

The commander cackled again. "You hear that? The poor elf maggot wants to know what we want from them. Well, you will know soon enough!" The leader bent down and, with a firm grip, lifted Erestor up off the cave floor. "I'm known as Shurkut," he hissed, "and I've got questions that need answering. If you know what is good for you, you'll tell me what I want to know."

Shurkut dragged Erestor outside of his cell and roughly carried him from the cave back outside, where he was hung from a large tree limb. Erestor felt fear grip him as he began to realize the severity of the situation he was in. He had no idea what these orcs wanted, or who they worked for – all he knew was that by the fact he and Glorfindel were still alive, these foul creatures worked for a higher power, and had orders to keep them alive. But that did not mean they would not be tortured.

After he had been hung from the tree, Shurkut came over, followed by three other orcs who carried several objects. Two Erestor recognized as a whip and a branding iron. The elf paled as he realized if he refused to answer their questions, he would undoubtedly be beaten severely.

Shurkut approached Erestor and grinned. "Now, it is quite simple. We know you hail from Rivendell and your master is Lord Elrond." Erestor blanched. Elrond? Why would they want to know about Elrond? Shurkut continued, "We want to know how many elves reside in Rivendell, how well you are armed, how to enter in undetected, Elrond's daily habits, and about his Ring. If you tell us what we want to know, you will be spared. If you don't…well, I don't think we need to tell you what will happen."

How did they know about Elrond's Ring? Only a few elves knew about Vilya: Glorfindel, Elrond's children, Galadriel, Celeborn, and himself. Erestor knew none of them would ever betray that secret to anyone, so who else could have found out? It didn't matter, he decided, because he would never betray his lord or Imladris' secrets. He would die before that ever happened.

As if sensing Erestor's defiance, Shurkut growled. "So you are not going to cooperate with us, eh? Well, we have ways of making you talk." He motioned to the orc with the branding tool, which was now red hot. As the creature approached him, Erestor closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for what he knew was going to happen. He felt the heat near his body, and after a few seconds, a searing hot pain and the smell of burning flesh ripped through his body. Erestor let out a scream and jerked away, but he was unable to move far.

The orc burned him repeatedly, but each time Erestor still refused to talk. After a bit, Shurkut became angry. He ordered the other orc to come forward, and just as Erestor thought it was over, he felt a stinging sensation rip through his body and the feeling of something wet dripping from his back and side. He was being flogged. Over and over it continued until Erestor could not take it anymore, and begged them to stop.

Finally, it stopped, as it was apparent Erestor was not going to tell them anything. They knew they had to keep him alive by orders of their master, so the beating ceased. For the moment. The orcs untied Erestor from the tree, his arm bleeding profusely through the bandage and feeling cold and numb. They dragged him back into the cave and threw him next to Glorfindel, who was still out cold.

"You may have won this round, maggot, but mark my words, next time you will not be so lucky. We will be back in the morning, and you had better tell us what we want to know or else your friend is next!" Shurkut growled, and with a huge heave of his boot kicked Glorfindel in his chest before turning to leave with a maniacal laugh. As Erestor looked down at his friend, the sight he was met with was horrendous. There in front of him was Glorfindel, white as a sheet, and convulsing.


	5. No Hope

Lord Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir had been traveling hard for two days, searching for any signs of their friends. Their horses were beginning to tire, as they had not stopped for a decent rest in hours and had pushed the mighty beasts to their limits in a desperate attempt to reach Glorfindel and Erestor.

"Father," Elrohir gasped, patting his mare's chestnut neck softly, "we need to stop soon; our horses can't take much more of this vigorous speed." Their mounts were shaking under the stress of their extended rush. Elladan glanced down at his horse, who was foaming heavily at the mouth.

Elrond just shook his head. "We can't stop, we have to keep going. Every minute that passes throws them deeper into danger!" their father firmly stated. No, they had to keep going. Erestor and Glorfindel were like family, and Elrond just could not handle the thought of something horrible happening to them. He shook his head to get the morbid thoughts out of his mind and pushed Gwaenaer even harder.

Elladan started to protest. "Father, we have been..." He was cut off suddenly when his father reined in his horse and raised his hand to motion for them to stop. Elladan and his brother drew their mounts to a halt seconds later, pulling up beside him with identical puzzled looks. They wondered why their father was just staring intensely at the ground in front of him. When they looked down, they discovered why.

They had come upon the glen where Glorfindel and Erestor had stayed that night, and the sight which met their eyes was like something from a nightmare. Dozens of orcs were sprawled all over the place. Some had arrows protruding from them, while others had their throats slit or were run through. Elrond quickly dismounted from his horse and began to investigate the carnage around him. He was followed closely by his two sons.

Elladan pulled one of the arrows out of a nearby orc. When he got a closer look at it, he realized they were the signature arrows his mentor used: Yellow feathers with bits of white speckled throughout. "These are the same arrows Glorfindel uses, but where are Erestor and Glorfindel?" The elder twin was surveying the area, but he could not find his friends anywhere.

His eyes darkened as they fell on the wargs and a sword. He quickly ran over and picked it up. "Father, Elrohir, over here, quick!" he called, straightening up with the elven blade in his hands.

Elrohir could feel through their bond his brother was very worked up and afraid. "What is it, Elladan? What did you find?" He did not need to wait for an explanation as his eyes fell on the sword in his brother's hands. The color drained from his face. "It's Erestor's sword!" He closed his eyes as he looked away. The situation was turning grim.

Taking the sword from his son, Elrond tried to keep calm. If Erestor's blade was here, then surely Erestor and Glorfindel were around as well! However, as he looked, he saw no sign at all of either his seneschal or advisor. He was just beginning to give up hope when he spotted something red on a tree, not too far from where Erestor's sword had been found.

Quickly he made his way over towards it, and as he got closer, he recognized the substance as blood – and there was more on the ground. As he knelt to get a better look, he began to feel sick. Right at his feet was Glorfindel's sword, the once shining silver metal covered with black orc blood. Sensing his sons' presence close by, Elrond clenched his fists tightly in anger.

"They were here, that much is for sure," he said without looking up. "We have to keep looking. We know they are alive as they are not among the dead, but I fear some greater evil. There is no time to waste!" Elrond leaped to his feet and ran swiftly back to his horse with both Glorfindel's and Erestor's weapons in hand.

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at one another, gripped by anger and fear. They had better be alive, or I swear I will not rest until every orc is hunted down! Elrohir whispered to his brother through their bond. Elladan just nodded in agreement and mounted his horse. They knew time was of the essence, and as tired as their horses were, they simply could not rest.

* * *

Erestor was frozen in place. He could not believe what he was witnessing. Glorfindel was lying on the ground, convulsing. White foam formed at the corners of his mouth, and his body was twitching. Erestor tried to will himself to move, but he was too much in shock for his mind to register the commanded and go to his friend.

Suddenly, Glorfindel went very still. Finally, Erestor managed to pull himself out of his stupor and weakly pulled himself over to his friend. As he got a closer look, his heart nearly stopped. Glorfindel was not breathing!

"Glorfindel!" Erestor shouted, shaking his friend, but the limp elf did not move. Erestor knew he had to act quickly if he was going to save his friend from dying…again. There was no way Glorfindel was going to go to Mandos' Halls for the second time and leave him here alone to face these creatures by himself. Glorfindel had gotten him into this mess, and he was going to help him get out of it.

Erestor managed to get into a kneeling position over his friend and painfully began to press his hands on Glorfindel's chest. Tilting his head back he blew two puffs of air into his friend's mouth. Leaning down, Erestor pressed his ear against the cold lips and prayed for a weak breath at the very least. Still, he was not breathing, so Erestor repeated the procedure. After about five minutes, Glorfindel gasped for air and began coughing.

Erestor let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the Valar!"

He was not sure if he wanted to hit Glorfindel or not. As he sat next to his friend, he heard Glorfindel babbling randomly. He could not tell all of what he was saying, but he caught bits and pieces of what sounded like "Gondolin" and "Balrog."

"He really must have hit his head, but at least he is alive…for now, at any rate," Erestor muttered the last part through gritted teeth, throwing Glorfindel a death glare. As Erestor shifted his weight, a huge wave of dizziness assaulted him, and his head felt like it was about to explode, and his arm began throbbing with a vengeance – he could barely move it.

Just as he was beginning to ponder what could be causing this unforeseen effect, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and Shurkut came in. "So, you rotten maggot, are you ready to talk?"

"I told you – I will not tell you anything orc filth!" Erestor knew he would regret what he said later, but he could not have cared less.

Shurkut snarled and stretched out a claw towards Glorfindel. Erestor briefly contemplated trying to fight the large orc but knew it would be pointless to do so. He just did not have the strength in him.

"I think it would be wise if you reconsider your statement," Shurkut growled, "because if you don't, your friend here is going to become a tasty meal for our wargs."

Erestor was about to respond when a few scouts trooped noisily in. They were obviously upset about something, but as they were conversing in the Black Speech, he could not quite understand what they were talking about. The harsh language sent shivers up his spine as he listened to it.

"We were out patrolling when we noticed we were being tracked by three elves. They were dark-haired and wore the armor of high-ranking elves."

Shurkut's eyes flamed, and with a curse he slapped one of the scouts, sending the orc stumbling backward. "You filthy swine! I told you not to draw attention to yourselves! You could have led them back here! Go back and take as many of your troop as you can. Get me those elves – and I want them alive!"

The scouts bowed and retreated.

"Well, it appears you are being looked for," Shurkut snarled. "Three of your kin are out looking for you."

Elrond! Erestor thought, almost daring to feel hopeful, but could not help but feel a twinge of fear for his lord as well. If it were indeed Elrond, then his sons would be with him undoubtedly.

"I wouldn't get too hopeful because I just had my men go capture them and bring them back here. You got lucky this time, but we'll see just how quiet you remain when we bring them here and start in on them." Shurkut let out a malicious laugh and left.

Erestor sighed in relief. He knew he was fortunate to have escaped thus far, but he knew he would not get off so easily next time. He had to get out of here! He looked over to Glorfindel, who by now was beginning to stir.

"Erestor, is that you?" Glorfindel asked, still very out of it.

"Aye, it is me, my friend. How are you?" Erestor did not need to ask really – he could tell by Glorfindel's pale face he was not doing well at all. He slowly made his way over to his friend.

"I feel wonderful like I can climb to the top of Orodruin," Glorfindel laughed softly. "Where are we, and what happened?"

Erestor swiftly proceeded to tell him everything he knew. When he finished, Glorfindel was mortified.

"They want Elrond's Ring? How could they know about it? Only a very few people know about Vilya, and none of us would ever dare betray the secret of who the owner is. The only other person that might know would be Sauron, but that is impossible…"

"That was my other guess," Erestor sighed, "and it can be the only explanation. Now it looks as if Elrond is out looking for us, and Shurkut has sent scouts to capture them and bring them here."

"This is not good," Glorfindel whispered softly, more to himself than to his friend. When he received no response, he quickly glanced up, looking at Erestor with growing concern as he noticed his friend was not looking very well at all. "Erestor, are you all right?"

Erestor tried to answer, but he had a hard time as he was now shaking and sweating profusely. Finally, he replied weakly, "I...I think...so. It...it is just blood loss…I think..." Erestor leaned his head back against the cold stone and closed his eyes, falling swiftly into a deep sleep.

Glorfindel just looked at his friend, his eyes sad. "Oh Erestor, I am so sorry," he whispered wearily. "I never should have brought you out here."

Meanwhile, out in the wild, unaware they were being tracked themselves, Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir was steadily moving closer towards the hidden orc encampment. Their minds were set on one thing, and one thing only – to reach Erestor and Glorfindel before it was too late.


	6. Trouble for Elrond

Glorfindel looked at his sleeping friend with grave concern. Elves did not sleep with their eyes closed, and simple blood loss would not cause an elf to have all these other issues Erestor was displaying. No, something else had to be bothering his friend. With a significant effort, Glorfindel painfully inched his way closer to Erestor. The twice-born elf was in mass amounts of pain radiating from his stomach to his head, but he pushed his problems aside for the moment. He would assess his injuries later, but right now he needed to find out why Erestor was in such distress.

When he was close enough to examine Erestor's wounds, he paled. The advisor's whole body was bloody and bruised from his waist up. He had massive burns on his torso and stomach in gruesome designs. His back and sides were covered in ghastly lashes that crisscrossed up and down, tearing the advisor's pale skin.

Then Glorfindel saw Erestor's shoulder. He was unable to look closely at it with his tunic still on, but Glorfindel could tell by the blood stain it was a deep and nasty stab wound. From the looks of it, the elf had lost a lot of blood from that as well as the lashes he had received.

With a sigh, Glorfindel slid closer to Erestor; with great care, and with some difficulty, he managed to cut his friend's tunic off with the small dagger he always kept hidden in his boot. Thankfully the orcs had been too stupid to check in case their prisoners were carrying any concealed weapons.

Once he had cut away the fabric, he was met with a sickening sight. Not only was the wound infected, but there were thin, long black lines radiating away from the wound. Erestor was poisoned, and from the looks of it, and from the symptoms he had been displaying, it was a deadly venom.

Glorfindel closed his eyes to try and gather his thoughts. "This is not good at all," he whispered. "I must find a way to get us out of here, and fast."

He fought back the anger he felt. This is all my fault. If I had not brought Erestor out here, this would never have happened, he growled to himself.

He opened his eyes and shook the thoughts from his mind. He knew that feeling sorry for himself was not going to help him – or Erestor – out of this situation.

With an effort, he cleared his mind and regained his composure. He mustered up what strength he had left and began to rip pieces of Erestor's tunic apart to clean his friend's wounds with some water which had been left for them. He did not know just how clean the water was, but he had no choice but to use it.

As soon as Glorfindel had cleaned the wounds as best as he could, he used some of his healing energy to try and slow down as much of the poison's effects as he could, also transferring some of his energy to Erestor. He had to be careful as he did not want to use too much of his energy or he would be too weak himself.

After Glorfindel had finished and Erestor was as comfortable as possible, he was able to focus on himself. Opening his tunic to evaluate his injuries, the golden-haired warrior quickly noticed the puncture wounds spanning from his lower abdomen to his upper rib cage where the warg had gripped him. The teeth wounds were an angry red, and pus leaked down his side – a sign they were severely infected. Around the infected area, he saw a colorful display of purple, blue, and black bruising that led up to his ribs.

He gasped from the severe pain that flared through his consciousness as he pushed down on his abdomen, and from the soft sensation he received, Glorfindel realized he was bleeding internally. Despite his years of cultivating a stoic facade, a spike of fear shot through him – he needed help.

After a moment, the pain began to subside, and after sitting quite still for a few minutes, Glorfindel began to probe his ribs, gleaning that a few of them were broken. He did not need to feel his head, as every time he moved it a massive wave of dizziness and nausea assailed him.

Once he was done examining his injuries, he sat down and tried to evaluate his surroundings and figure out what he was going to do to get him and Erestor out. He knew that from his injuries, and those of his friend, if they did not get back to Imladris, they would not need to worry about orcs killing them – they would die from their injuries. However, try as he might, he could not think of a way to escape. His head was killing him – quite literally – and an attempt at escaping with no sword was ridiculous. He knew he would be killed before he could say "Valar, help!" All he could do was sit and hope that Elrond and whoever else was with him reached them soon.

A few minutes later, Glorfindel heard Erestor beginning to stir. Immediately, he scooted over to his friend and helped him sit up. With a concerned look on his face, he gazed intently at the Noldo. "How are you doing, Erestor?"

Erestor was having difficulty focusing, but after a minute he responded agitatedly, "How do you think I'm doing?"

Glorfindel sighed. "I'm sorry for getting us into this mess, my friend. I should never have brought you out here. I just thought you needed the break, as you are always working so hard. Forgive me, please?"

Seeing the pain and regret on Glorfindel's face, Erestor could not find it in his heart to be angry for long. "No, my friend, there is nothing to forgive," he murmured softly. "I know you were only trying to help me, and I thank you for that."

Glorfindel smiled brilliantly, his grin lighting up his entire face. "You're welcome, Erestor." Then the ellon looked grave once more. "However, we must get out of here soon as we are not exactly in healthy conditions. I took the liberty of looking over you, and the stab wound you received is poisoned. You need to get back to Imladris soon."

Upon hearing that, Erestor paled even more if that was possible. "Poisoned? That is just my luck! Why is it whenever I am with you, something always happens which makes me end up in the infirmary?"

Glorfindel just chuckled and sat down beside his friend. They really were a pair.

* * *

Elrond did not know how long they had been traveling since coming upon the glen where Glorfindel and Erestor had camped. The one conscious thought that rested in his mind was he had to find his friends for every passing minute could bring them closer to death. He and his sons had been tracking the orcs for what seemed like days, and still, they did not seem any closer to finding Glorfindel or Erestor.

Finally, they came to a river, and there Elrond came to a sharp stop. Elladan and Elrohir pulled up beside him as well.

"Why have we stopped?" Elrohir asked sharply. He could not understand why they would have stopped here of all places, but by the look on his father's face, he knew something was up.

Elrond dismounted from his horse and began pacing up and down the river, stopping ever so often to examine the ground carefully. After a moment, he came back to his sons, his face leaving no doubt that he was flustered terribly.

"It appears we have lost the trail. They must have crossed the river." He remounted his horse and turned to face his sons, who were now angry.

Elladan tired, hungry, and filled with worry for his friends, lost his temper. "So now what do we do now?" he exclaimed. "If we lost their tracks, how do we find them?" He could not believe they had come all this way just to be thwarted by the orcs. Elrohir, too, looked like he was on the verge of giving up.

Elrond, however, was not going to admit defeat so quickly. "We will split up and look for their tracks elsewhere. We are not going to give up and just abandon Glorfindel and Erestor to torture and death!"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged skeptical glances. They were not sure splitting up was a good idea, but they did not know what else to do. They had to find the trail again, and perhaps splitting up was the only way they would locate the path the orcs took.

Elrond looked at his sons. He knew they were exhausted, and it tore at him he was putting them through this with hardly any sleep or rest, but he knew they would never complain. Knowing how much Glorfindel and Erestor meant to the two, he was sure they did not want the same thing that happened to their mother to happen to their mentors. He was so proud of his sons.

"I know you are tired, my sons, and I wish we could rest, but we must keep pushing on," he said gently. "You two go downriver and look for any tracks, and I will scout upstream. We will then regroup here in an hour to decide our next course of action." He paused a moment and clasped their forearms firmly. "Be safe – I could not bear to lose one or both of you."

Elladan and Elrohir gave their father a small smile and waded into the river, crossing to the other bank and disappeared into the foliage. Waiting until he could see his sons no longer, Elrond let out a brief sigh and turned back to his path.

Pushing Gwaenaer steadily onward, Elrond knew they needed a breakthrough soon, or his horse would succumb to exhaustion, and then they would never find the missing elves in time. Whispering words of encouragement and strength to his horse, the dark-haired lord cantered on.

After about thirty minutes of searching, Elrond came across some footprints. Hope swelling in his heart, he stepped closer to examine them and realized that they belonged to the orcs they were tracking. "I have you now," he spat with anger. With a new wave of hope and strength, he followed the tracks. He knew he needed to turn back and meet with his sons, but against his better judgment, he kept on following the trail.

After a few moments of fast walking, he came to an area which had a small overhang. Dismounting from his exhausted mount, Elrond proceeded on foot to investigate the area more closely.

Beginning to get a very uneasy feeling, Elrond was just about to go back to meet with his sons when he was suddenly assailed. He had no idea where they came from, but at least twenty orcs came careening down the overpass.

The elf lord barely had time to pull himself together when the first strike hit him. He was caught so fairly off guard that the blow dazed him. The orc would have finished him off right then if he had not recovered so quickly: he managed to counterattack his opponent, just to be attacked by another. On and on Elrond fought, killing orc after orc. He did not know how many he had already taken down, but surveying the clearing out of his peripheral vision, he saw the bodies were piling up.

Elrond was beginning to feel exhaustion from lack of sleep in addition to the fight overtaking him. He had to get out, or he would be overwhelmed!

With a hasty glance about himself, Elrond was about to make a break for it when he felt a sharp pain in his right leg. Without a glance, he realized that he had been shot.

It took all his strength to keep from collapsing from the pain, but he continued to fight his way through the press. He was almost free when another arrow caught him, this time higher on his leg. He was unable to stay upright, and the enemy seized their chance, knocking him forcibly to the ground.

Elrond struggled desperately to break free, and he had managed to take down several more of his enemies when his head jerked back, stars dancing before his eyes. It was as though through a cloudy haze he saw a huge orc looming up before him, a bloody rock clutched in its fists. Then everything went black.

* * *

"Elladan, we have been looking for almost an hour, and we haven't found any sign of them. Father told us to meet him back in an hour; we must go now!"

Elrohir was beginning to feel irritated and impatient. Actually, that did not even begin to describe the mix of emotions flooding his mind. They had searched every nook and cranny about them for the orcs but had come up empty-handed. Now they were going to be late meeting up with their father, and that was not going to go over very well with Elrond.

Elladan knew his brother was right. With an angry growl, he kicked a rock and turned back toward the river. "Fine, let us go back. I only hope father had better luck than us."

Elrohir was just about to answer when he saw his brother grab his head and let out a cry of pain as he collapsed to the ground.

"Elladan, what is wrong!" Elrohir cried out in horror, rushing to his twin's side. Just as was about to lower himself to his knees, he was also assailed by a sharp pain to his head and clutched it, falling to the ground as well.

As suddenly as the pain hit, it stopped, leaving only a dull throbbing as a reminder of what had taken place. Elladan raised his head and looked at his brother with tears in his gray eyes.

"It is father, something has happened to him," he gasped. "We must hurry; it may already be too late!"


	7. Interrogation

It was late in the afternoon when Erestor was roused from his rest by the sound of loud footsteps coming their way. He had no idea if Shurkut was coming back for them, but just in case, he readied himself to put up a fight. He jumped, startled when the door to their cell had opened. Several orcs stomped in, and being dragged behind them was an unconscious and injured Elrond. Erestor inhaled sharply. If Lord Elrond was here, then what had become of Elladan and Elrohir?

As the orcs tossed Elrond roughly in with Glorfindel and Erestor, one of the orcs turned and let out a barking laugh. "Don't get too comfortable, elf scum. Shurkut will be coming for you and your elf lord soon enough!"

With a final laugh, the orc swaggered from the cave, leaving the two elves alone with Elrond.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Erestor rose to his knees and made his way swiftly over to Elrond, deeply worried for his friend. Upon looking him over, he could not help but notice the deep bags under Elrond's eyes, which indicated he was exhausted. He was also covered in smudges of dirt and leaves, and dry blood coated the back of his head from where he had been hit. He noticed with disgust the two arrows protruding from Elrond's leg and knew he needed to wake him up.

Ever so gently, he shook his friend and whispered, "Elrond, my friend. Can you hear me? It is Erestor!"

When he received no response, Erestor began to worry that perhaps Elrond had received a severe head injury, when at last the elf lord began to stir.

Erestor sighed with relief. "Eru be praised!"

Elrond tried opening his eyes, but when he did an enormous wave of nausea assailed him. He closed his eyes quickly for a few seconds and then tried opening them again. This time, the nausea was not as bad as before, but the massive throbbing in his head was another matter altogether. He groaned in pain, foolishly attempting to sit up, but immediately regretted his decision as his surroundings began to spin. He would have keeled over if it had not been for a gentle, yet firm, pair of hands keeping him upright.

Feeling someone's hands upon him, his survival instincts kicked in and he tried to fight off the grip. A calm voice soothed him, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders and drew him closer. "Elrond, easy, friend. It is I, Erestor – I am not going to hurt you."

Erestor? Upon hearing his old friend's voice, Elrond stopped fighting and turned his head slowly, so as to not be beset by dizziness again. When his vision finally came into focus, he relaxed, letting a smile of relief form on his face.

"Erestor!" he whispered joyfully. "It is you; I was so worried I would never find you. Where is Glorfindel?"

Erestor smiled back, but it quickly faded upon hearing his friend's name. "Glorfindel is here, but he is hurt badly. He has a severe head wound, and it appears he may have some internal bleeding as well."

As soon as he heard this, Elrond's smile faded as quickly as it had come. "Where is he, and what happened?"

Erestor pointed to Glorfindel and carefully helped Elrond over to him. Wincing at his lord's painful process, he wanted to remove the arrows from Peredhel's leg, but he knew Elrond would not allow it. His healer's instincts had kicked in, and Erestor knew he would not care for himself until everyone else was taken care of first.

Immediately, Elrond began to probe Glorfindel, and upon further investigating he found that Erestor's suspicions were correct. There was indeed internal bleeding, and it was severe. He also noticed the infected puncture wounds and the discoloration around his ribs which indicated they were broken. What also worried him was the huge laceration on Glorfindel's head right above his eye.

Elrond released his breath, not even realizing he had been holding it. "How did this happen?" he asked, his eyes grave.

Erestor closed his eyes before beginning to tell Elrond everything he knew. He told him about how the orcs had attacked them in the middle of the night; how it was an organized fight, not some random raid; how the wargs had appeared, and how he had frozen, and Glorfindel had thrown himself in front of him and was thrown head first into the tree.

When Erestor finally finished his grisly tale, Elrond remained quiet, but the look of horror and disbelief spoke louder than his silence. So, this whole attack was planned after all! The orcs had not just been out looking for random elves or men to torture – they had been looking for Elrond or anyone associated with him, and they were after his Ring. His friends had been captured and hurt because of his ring!

Elrond knew he had to hide Vilya, and with a sigh, he took it off and hid it in his boot. "We must keep the Ring safe. They cannot find it, or the damage that shall be done will be great."

Erestor nodded in understanding, but his attentions swiftly returned to his wounded companion. "What about Glorfindel? Can you help him?"

Elrond heaved a sigh. "I can bind his wounds and put some _athelas_ on the infected wounds, but apart from that, I can do nothing until we get back to Imladris."

The elf lord reached for the pouch at his belt, which thankfully the orcs had not taken. He took some _athelas_ and chewed it to make a paste, placing it gently on the torn flesh of Glorfindel's abdomen. He then bound the wounds with pieces of his cloak.

Once he had finished, Glorfindel opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Elrond. He had no idea whether he was dreaming or not, but as soon as he tried sitting up, the pain that knifed through his ribs and abdomen quickly told him it was not his imagination.

Elrond stayed his friend, gently keeping him down. "Easy, Glorfindel, do not try and sit up just yet."

Glorfindel was greatly concerned; where were Elladan and Elrohir, and had the orcs gotten Elrond's Ring? As if sensing his friend's concerns, Elrond smiled reassuringly. "Do not fear, Glorfindel. Elladan and Elrohir are safe as far as I know, and I have hidden my ring. It is safe."

The golden-haired elf's face became grim, and with a great effort, he managed to speak. "They cannot find it Elrond! They must not know you have it on you. No matter what they do to us, do not tell them anything!"

Elrond looked as if he wanted to protest, but he knew his friend was right. No matter what these fell creatures did to him or his friends, he could not betray the location of Vilya.

Letting out a light sigh of relief, Glorfindel closed his eyes again. He opened them again as a weak cry reached his ears. Erestor was struggling to catch his breath, clutching tightly at his right arm.

Elrond was instantly at his side with an expression of concern on his face. "What happened to Erestor?"

Glorfindel blanched at the remembrance. "He was stabbed by a poisoned blade the night we were attacked."

Quickly, Elrond sprang into action and tore off the cloth that bound Erestor's arm. Sure enough, upon looking at the wound, Elrond saw the telltale signs of poison, and from the looks of it, the venom had spread rapidly throughout his advisor's body. At this time, he also noticed Erestor's other injuries, which had no doubt been administered by means of torture. Elrond began to feel queasy at the sight of his friend's wounds, but the sensation quickly turned to rage as he realized Erestor had been beaten to get information about his Ring.

Elrond hastily pushed these thoughts aside; he needed to concentrate on helping his friend. He had just enough _athelas_ left to tend to Erestor's arm. Chewing up the last bit, the healer carefully daubed it on the wound.

Upon feeling the _athelas_ press against his all-too-tender arm, Erestor let out a gasp and jerked his arm, trying to get away, but Elrond was too strong and held him in place. Once Erestor stopped his reflexive struggling, Elrond poured his energy into him to help ease his breathing. Finally, he felt Erestor relax, and he swiftly wrapped the arm in a clean strip from his tunic. Elrond knew he had to get his friends home quickly or they would die.

Just as he had finished tending to his friends and began to relax, Shurkut strode into the cell, followed by several other grinning orcs. Elrond glared defiantly at the huge orc. If only he had his sword, he would have struck that spawn of Morgoth down right then and there.

Shurkut glared back at Elrond, silently challenging him to defy him, but Elrond just held his ground.

"So, you are the mighty elf known as Elrond?" Shurkut boomed. "Well, you don't look so powerful now that we have you here and unarmed!"

Elrond glowered at him, refusing to budge. Whatever this orc wanted, he was not going to get it. He would not give into such a foul creature even if it meant his friends dying. He knew he had to protect the secret of his Ring for the sake of all Middle-earth. Erestor and Glorfindel understood, and he was aware that they were willing to die as well.

Striding forward, Shurkut gripped Elrond's neck and lifted him off the ground. "You have something Lord Sauron wants you, filthy scum, and you will give it to us or else your friends here will end up paying the price for your lack of obedience."

Elrond laughed scornfully. "I will die before I ever give Vilya to Sauron!"

Shurkut snarled in fury, and with his other hand ripped the arrows out of Elrond's leg and threw him down on the stone floor. Elrond screamed in pain and grabbed his leg. As he looked down, he saw blood was now flowing from his leg, and he tried to wrap it with cloth, but Shurkut seized him again before he could.

"If you will not talk freely, maggot," he bellowed, his red eyes flashing, "then we will make you talk. We will see just how quiet you remain when you are watching your friends here screaming in agony!"

Shurkut then motioned to the other orcs standing by waiting for orders. "Take the elf filth to 'the room.' It looks as if though this elf here needs encouraging loosening his tongue!"

At the sound of 'the room,' a larger orc sniggered. "Come on, boys, you heard Shurkut. Let us make him talk!"

After the orcs had dragged Glorfindel and Erestor out of the cell, Shurkut snarled. "Tell me Elrond. How does it feel to know that you are the reason your friends are suffering so needlessly? Do you think after all is said and done they will still follow you?"

Elrond bit his tongue and just stared impassively at Shurkut. With a growl, the frustrated orc bent down, and Elrond was yanked from his cell and dragged to be joined with his friends.

As he was brought in, he saw Erestor and Glorfindel strapped to two tables that had several cruel looking tools next to them. Elrond could not believe this was happening. On the other side of the room, several orcs were heating up different branding tools and preparing assorted styles of whips.

Elrond looked back to his friends, and as Glorfindel stared at him, he heard his golden-haired friend speak in his mind. _Do not tell them, Elrond, and remember what I said. No matter what they do, and no matter how much we beg them to stop, do not give in to them._

Swallowing the large lump in his throat, Elrond held back tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he nodded. He felt himself being tied to a nearby pole and stifled a cry as his leg throbbed mercilessly. He had to keep himself mentally strong and force himself to block out his friends' screams as to not give in to the enemy.

Shurkut approached him and smiled menacingly. "This is your last chance, elf. Are you going to talk, or will you let your friends suffer?"

Elrond looked away and remained silent.

"Have it your way! Boys, start making them scream." With a sneer, Shurkut left.

All Elrond could do was close his eyes with a mental plea to Glorfindel and Erestor. _Forgive me, my friends…_ He then tuned out his friends' pleas for help.

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir rode hard, backtracking their way to where they had last seen their father. As they rode upstream desperately looking for their father's tracks, they remained silent. Neither of them could bring themselves even to ask what they thought had happened – they just knew they needed to find him, and fast.

After a while they found their father's trail and followed it, eventually coming to a small overpass. The sight that met their eyes was horrifying: sprawled all over the ground were several dead orcs. The twins could not tell just how many there were; the numbers were too many to count. All they knew was they had to find their father.

Elrohir was the first to regain his wits, and swiftly dismounting from his mare, he ran towards the carcasses. "Elladan, quickly, help find father!"

Elladan quickly followed suit and began to scan the bodies for any sign of him. However, after several minutes it became evident he was nowhere to be found. "Elrohir, he isn't here!"

Elrohir refused to believe it. "He has to be, Elladan; he can't have been taken too!"

But it was entirely too clear that their father was not among the orcs' bodies; just as he was going to agree with his brother and suggest they look elsewhere, his eyes fell upon something shiny lying amidst several carcasses.

"Elladan, over here!" Quickly running over, he shoved the dead orcs away and picked up the object. He could not believe what he saw: it was his father's sword.

Seconds later Elladan was at his brother's side, gazing with horror at the sword his twin held. "It's father's sword…Elrohir, they have him! We have to go back to Imladris and get help. We can't do this alone."

Elrohir knew his brother was right. They had to get help, or more than likely they, too, would be captured. "Then let us go quickly. It looks as if it will begin raining soon and we can't afford to lose the trail."

Both brothers ran back to their horses, and with their father's sword, they quickly made their way back to Imladris.

* * *

Several hours later they arrived, their horses exhausted and the twins not much better. They hastily found Lindir and told him all that had happened and what they knew.

Lindir looked solemn. "So, what are you planning on doing?"

Elladan glared at Lindir. "We are going to take several warriors with us and track down the orcs and bring our father and friends back," he spat heatedly.

Lindir bowed respectfully. "Then make haste and be safe, my lords."

The twins bowed back and left. Once they were packed with several elven warriors, healing supplies, food, and new horses, they quickly left Imladris and made their way back to where they had found the orcs. They began looking for the trail that the orcs most likely had taken, and after several minutes found what seemed to be blood and heavy footprints.

Galon, Glorfindel's second-in-command, knelt and examined the prints. "They are orc prints, all right, and it looks like they lead that way." He stood back up and pointed north.

Elrohir urged his horse in the direction of the tracks. "Then north we shall go. This way!"

The company rode hard and fast for hours, neither stopping nor talking. They had only three things in mind, and that was to: find the orc camp, take down every last orc and wild beast there, and rescue their father and friends.

After a while the tracks began to scatter, becoming harder and harder to follow, and then, just like that, they were gone.

Elrohir, who normally was the composed and collected of the two, let out an angry cry. "This cannot be happening!"

Elladan felt his brother's frustration, as he, too, was on the verge of despair. Still, he managed an encouraging smile for his twin, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. "Elrohir, do not lose hope, we will find them. We must keep looking."

Elrohir glared, and just as he was about to release a biting comment, he sat upright. What was that?

The elder twin's gray eyes flitted from his brother's grim countenance to the faces of the elves beside them, confused. A question was on his lips when a long, drawn out howl echoed through the crisp air.

Wargs.

Elladan leaped from his horse, staying the warriors with his upraised hand, and disappeared silently into the underbrush. Elrohir fidgeted nervously, playing with his horse's bridle. It seemed like forever, though in truth only a few moments, before his brother returned.

"Tis wargs," Elladan informed them abruptly, his eyes cold, shining with a fey light. "There are scouts with them. I believe we are close."

Elrohir smirked. "Well, it looks as though our luck is about to change, after all, brother. Let us go!" He urged his horse forward, galloping in the direction from whence had come the howls, his twin at his side. The company of elves followed close on their heels.

* * *

Elrond had no idea how long they had been tied up, or how long he had forced himself to endure his friends' screams of pain. He would try to close his eyes, seeking some relief from their pleas for them to stop, but every time he did, Shurkut yanked his hair or kicked him to make him open them again.

When it was apparent that Elrond would not answer his questions, Shurkut landed a well-aimed kick to the elf's abdomen and strode toward the door. "We will stop for now, boys, we have orders not to kill them. Take them back to their cell and give the elf scum supplies to tend to his friends. We wouldn't want them to be so far gone they can't tolerate another beating, would we?"

The orcs laughed, dragging the elves back to their cell and tossed them in. After a few minutes, one of the orcs returned to throw in what appeared to be healing supplies for Elrond to "tend" to Erestor and Glorfindel.

Ignoring the intense pain from his injuries, Elrond crawled over to Glorfindel and Erestor both of whom were barely conscious at this point. Both of them had whip lashes in cruel designs that covered the majority of their bodies, but the more serious injuries were the gruesome brandings on their thighs, stomachs, and arms. Glorfindel was cradling his left hand, and a closer look proved that all his fingers had been dislocated.

Erestor's condition had deteriorated rapidly. His breathing was shallow, and his face was deathly pale; when Elrond felt his face, he pulled back as it was icy cold.

Using what energy he could spare, and, with the equipment the orcs had left them, Elrond began the exhausting task of treating the two as best as he could. But he knew that unless help arrived soon, his friends would be dead within days if not sooner.

As Elrond was cleaning Glorfindel's lashes, he could hear the orcs outside growing restless. He worried that Shurkut would come back, and he knew Glorfindel and Erestor could not take another beating like this again.

As he was cogitating, the cell door opened, and two large orcs advanced towards Elrond. Grabbing him, they dragged him out, leaving Erestor and Glorfindel completely alone and vulnerable. As he was being taken to Shurkut, Elrond said a silent prayer to Elbereth to please protect his friends and give him the strength he was going to need to endure whatever was waiting for him.


	8. Deliverance

It was midday when Elladan, Elrohir, and the rest of the patrol arrived at the large orc camp. Never before had the twins seen so many orcs and wargs gathered together. The elves could not be sure of their numbers, but they were pretty sure there were over one hundred orcs, and that was just the outer perimeter – they did not have a clue what was waiting on the inside. The only thing they did know for sure was that their father, Glorfindel, and Erestor were somewhere inside, and they had to get in.

Galon looked over to Elladan. The elder twin was eager to get in and rescue his longtime friend and mentor, but he also knew they were painfully outnumbered.

"How are we going to get in without being overwhelmed? We are outnumbered, my lords."

Elladan smiled grimly. "Numbers do not always mean a sure victory, Galon. Worry not, we will prevail. We will wait until nightfall and then lure them out and ambush them. Orcs are not the smartest, and they are easily dispatched once they are scattered and confused. After we have taken out most of the outer defenses here, you and the other elves continue to take out the rest while Elrohir and I breach the inner area and find father, Erestor, and Glorfindel."

Galon nodded in agreement. "Very well, my lord. It shall be done as you command."

After Elladan and Elrohir had briefed the others, they prepared themselves for the upcoming battle. They knew they only had this one chance to break in and rescue everyone. There was no room for failure, as that would mean certain death.

Once nightfall had come upon them, Elladan and Elrohir went over everything one more time to Galon, who gave his troop the twins' orders. Once everyone was in position, Elladan fired an arrow into the nearest enemy. With a squeal of pain, the orc fell dead, sending the nearby orcs and wargs into a frenzy. It was on now, and there was no turning back!

The closest orc sounded the alarm and charged to where the arrow had been fired. Elladan and Elrohir had perched themselves in the nearest tree, and when the orcs and wargs came bursting through, the twins threw themselves at the enemy. Galon gave his troop the command, and a volley of arrows flew down on the foul creatures below. The orcs had no idea what was happening, and as Elladan had predicted, they became confused and scattered.

One by one the enemy fell, heaping into piles of arrow ridden bodies. Sauron's thralls had not been prepared for an attack, and the elves had the element of surprise. Within moments most of the outer orcs had been dispatched. Galon turned to the twins, and as soon as he had finished disemboweling the orc he was fighting, yelled, "Go now, my lords! We have it under control here! Go and find your father!"

Elladan nodded once, tugging on his twin's arm as Elrohir slit the throat of a leering adversary. He let out a call to a few other elves to follow, and together they crept into the gaping cavern.

"Keep on your guard," Elrohir whispered. "Orcs could be anywhere."

Silently and stealthily, they made their way further inside the dark, cave-like fortress. There was not a sound besides the soft fall of their feet upon cold stone, and they were beginning to wonder if they had lured all the orcs outside when as they made a turn, several scouts assailed them. Elrohir, who happened to be the closest, barely managed to avoid being skewered, and without difficulty plunged his sword deep within the creature while his brother took down the other two. They exchanged wary looks, indicating they needed to be more careful.

After several minutes of blind walking, Elrohir became agitated. "How are we going to find them in this horrid place, Elladan?" he whispered heatedly, anxious to find his father and friends.

Before his brother could answer, they heard voices from around a corner. As they quietly approached and peered around, they saw two larger orcs standing guard next to a cell door. The twins glanced keenly at one another. _That must be where they are holding them,_ Elladan whispered to his brother through their bond.

 _"Aye, I will take them out from here. I have a clear shot,"_ Elrohir replied, removing an arrow from his quiver. Without a sound, he aimed and released the arrow straight into the nearest orc's head. Before the other could make a sound, he fired a second arrow right into its neck, killing it instantly.

The twins quickly approached the cell door. Elladan retrieved the keys from one of the orc's and unlocked the door, kicking it aside and running in. Upon entering the room though, they were both met with a horrible sight.

Lying on the hard floor was Glorfindel, and next to him sprawled was the raven-haired advisor. Neither were moving.

With a sharp intake of breath, Elladan strode swiftly over to them, followed by his brother. As they knelt beside the older elves, Glorfindel weakly opened his eyes. Seeing Elladan, a small smile formed on his ashen face. "You came, pen neth."

Elladan bit back a sob. "Of course, I came. You didn't think I'd leave you here to have all the fun, did you?"

Glorfindel choked back a laugh. "Always the jokester." Suddenly he started coughing, and after a moment he spat up some blood.

"Elladan…" he gasped, "you have to find your father…they took him, and I fear what they will do to him. They are after his Ring...if they find it, Middle-earth will be in grave danger. Do not worry about us, go!"

Elrohir looked at Glorfindel as if he wanted to protest, and then at his brother.

"Glorfindel is right, Elrohir, we have to find father before they find Vilya," Elladan said softly after contemplating their options. He glanced down at Erestor, who was still unconscious, breathing very shallowly, and then motioned to the nearby elves. "I want you to stay with them and protect them with your lives. As soon as we find our father we will come back."

"Aye, my lord," one of the elves replied.

Elladan looked at Glorfindel one more time. "We will come back for you two, we swear it," and he squeezed his hand softly and left, his brother close behind.

After seeing the conditions of their friends, the twin warriors pursued their enemy with heated anger. They would not stop until they found the one responsible for this and cut him down without any mercy. But in the midst of their rage, one rational thought prevailed: they had to hurry, as their father's life depended on them.

Around turn after turn they ran, cutting down any orc they met along the way, not stopping until at last, they rounded one corner. Elrohir stopped suddenly, motioning for his brother to draw up beside him.

"What is it Elrohir?" Elladan asked, confused.

There, around the corner, stood a tall, swarthy orc, and strapped to a table was their father. A sickening feeling entered Elrohir as he realized what was about to happen. The younger twin narrowed his eyes and looked at his brother. "It is the leader and father! When I move, use your bow and take him down. Then I will deliver the final blow."

Elladan nodded, nocking an arrow, and as soon as Elrohir moved out of the way, Elladan rounded the corner and loosed the arrow, which found its way into Shurkut's back.

Shurkut let out a howl of pain as he fell to his knees, but he still struggled to arise, beady eyes flickering about the room, searching for his attacker. His eyes finally fell on Elrohir, who held his sword in his hands. A snarl formed on the orc's lips as he realized he was about to meet his end. As he reached for his weapon, Elrohir ran his sword through Shurkut's gut.

Shurkut yanked himself backward, pulling himself off Elrohir's blade and falling again to his knees. An evil malice formed in his eyes as he looked into the eyes of the dark-haired warrior who would be his undoing. "You might have won this battle, you filthy maggot, but you won't win the war. Sauron will reclaim Middle-earth, and then all you elves will fall to ruin!"

Eyes sparkling with hatred, Elrohir cut the head clean off Shurkut's shoulders, letting out a deep sigh of relief before running over to his father. Elladan was at his father's side already, and the two of them began to unshackle him. Elrond was in a daze, bleeding slightly from his mouth and forehead. Elladan also noticed the arrow wounds to the leg, and quickly ripped a piece of fabric off his cloak and bound his father's leg to stop the renewed bleeding. As he was wrapping his father's leg, Elrohir channeled some of his healing energy into his father, who was now coming to.

Elrond looked up and smiled weakly as he saw who was by his side. "My sons, I knew you would find us…did you find Erestor and Glorfindel?"

"Aye, we found them, and we left some of our patrol with them," Elrohir said, smiling back, relieved his father would be all right. As he looked around, he heard footsteps approaching, and Galon appeared, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"How many did we lose?" Elladan asked concern etched in his eyes.

Galon took a deep breath and let it out as he saw Elrond appeared to be all right. He turned to Elladan. "We only lost a small handful. Those fell creatures had no chance at victory."

Elrond sat slowly, and with the aid of his sons stood, and began walking back toward Erestor and Glorfindel. "Then let us be leaving this place. Glorfindel and Erestor are in dire conditions and must get back to Imladris before it is too late."

Galon bowed and turned to go and help the other elves prepare to transfer Erestor and Glorfindel to the horses for the ride home.

Elrond turned to his sons. "As for you two, I am so proud of you both," he said tiredly, but a light shone in his eyes that had not been present before. "You have proven yourselves to be fine ellyn and warriors. Now let us get out of here and go home."

With a smile, the three began their way back to help the others with Glorfindel and Erestor. They were on their way home.


	9. Homeward Bound

It had been several hours since Elladan, Elrohir, and the other elves had rescued Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel. After making sure that all the orcs and wargs had been properly dispatched, they began the long journey back home.

Elrond had bandaged his leg – which thankfully had not been poisoned – but it was very tender all the same. He would not be able to walk on it properly for a while, so he had to rely on his sons to help him to his horse.

As for Erestor and Glorfindel, they were loaded on stretchers and were in the process of being led out. Elrond had to make sure they would be well enough to start the journey back, so he managed to at least stop the poison in Erestor's arm from spreading anymore, and had also stopped the internal bleeding in Glorfindel. However, the two were far from being fine. Elrond knew that time was still of the essence if the two were to live through this.

Before they departed, Elrond put Vilya back on his finger once more and looked back, relieved he would be leaving this place of evil once and for all. He was thankful that they had not found his Ring; however, the pain he felt for his closest friends who had suffered severely because of him and the Ring, was great. With one final check to make sure everyone was present, and that all the wounded were stable, the Lord of Rivendell and his party departed for home.

As if sensing their father's distress, Elladan and Elrohir rode up silently next to their father. The twins glanced at one another as if contemplating whether they should disturb him or not. Elrond, of course, sensing his sons and reading their thoughts, broke the silence.

"I am fine, my sons; there is no need to worry for me. The Ring is safe, the enemy who sought to bring it to Sauron is destroyed, and Glorfindel and Erestor will both be fine once we reach the safety of our borders."

"Aye, father, we know that," spoke Elladan softly. "Nonetheless, we are aware you carry an enormous burden on your shoulders – guilt, for what happened to Glorfindel and Erestor. Please let us help you carry that burden. Do not suffer alone."

Elrond finally looked up at his eldest, seeing the pain in his eyes. He hated to see his children hurt! They had already suffered enough as it was after what had happened to their mother, and now this. He did not want them to suffer anymore, yet he knew how stubborn they were, and they would not relent until they were allowed to help him. He sighed.

"I know you two will not give up until I agree to let you help me, so I guess I had better make it easier on all of us right now and allow you two to help me through this."

Elladan and Elrohir smirked at their father. "You know us too well, father."

As they continued in silence, one of the guards, by the name of Gwennion, rode up to Elrond with concern on his face.

"My Lord Elrond, we need to stop and find shelter. It appears the weather is not going to hold for much longer, and Glorfindel and Erestor are in no shape to survive this impending weather."

Elrond looked up at the sky, seeing he was indeed right. The clouds were darkening, and the wind was starting to pick up. As he looked back at his two unconscious friends, he realized they had to find shelter quickly.

"Very well," he decided. "Let us find someplace that can keep us out of this weather and where we can build a fire to keep Erestor and Glorfindel warm until it is safe for us to continue."

Gwennion bowed. "Yes, my lord." Galloping off with several elves, they went to look for adequate shelter.

An hour later, Gwennion called out to Elrond. "We have found shelter over here, my lord. It should do fine until the weather clears."

Elrond and his sons rode over to where Gwennion stood, and, as the elf had said, not too far away was a small cave, just big enough for all the elves. They found they reached the cave just in time: a moment after hustling everyone inside, the sky began to thunder and lightning flashed brightly. They barely had a fire started when the rain began to fall in a torrential deluge, soaking everything and anyone that was unfortunate enough to be outdoors.

"We will wait here until the weather clears up. In the meantime, I want guards to keep a lookout at all times for any intruders. I will be tending to the wounded," Elrond said to several of his troops, before taking his sons' arms and hobbling over to the wounded. The guards bowed and went to stand watch.

It was going to be a long night for Elrond and his sons. At least four of the wounded elves had sustained deep gashes that turned out to be poisoned, but fortunately, the venom was able to be treated with _athelas,_ and they would be fine in a day or two. The two elves that gave him the most worry was Erestor and Glorfindel. They had not woken since their departure from the orc camp, and now both were running high fevers. Erestor's breathing was slow, and his lashes had become infected.

As he looked wearily over to Glorfindel, Elrond realized his seneschal was not faring much better himself. His breathing was very labored due to his broken ribs, and upon looking at the puncture wounds, Elrond found they were not healing as he would have wished. They oozed a nasty yellow-green discharge, and they were hot to the touch. Looking closer at the pale elf's pupils, Elrond saw they were not responding to the light of the fire, indicating that he had a concussion. Both ellyn lashes were bleeding anew, and their burns were beginning to blister.

Elrohir looked at his father; feeling fear grip at him with its icy fingers. "We have to get them back to Imladris. They will not last much longer!"

Elrond sighed. "I know, Elrohir, but we cannot travel in this weather. They would not last an hour out there in their condition. We must try and get their fever down, and ease their pain as best we can here." He glanced over at his eldest. "Elladan, boil some water and bring me the healing pouch you brought with you."

Elladan nodded and immediately got up to retrieve the said items for his father, and to boil some water.

"Elrohir, help me strip both of them. We need to clean their wounds before they become even more infected," Elrond said, beginning to remove his friends clothing.

Elrohir helped his father to remove their clothing, ever so careful not to hurt Erestor and Glorfindel more than was necessary. Even while unresponsive, he knew they had to be feeling enormous amounts of pain.

Once they had the water boiled and the two elf lords stripped, they cleansed the wounds with _athelas,_ and Elrond managed to drain Glorfindel's puncture wounds. Once they had finished with that, they bandaged both ellyn up and then coaxed them into drinking a special tea that would help with pain and fever so they could rest more comfortably.

Once Erestor and Glorfindel were stabilized and resting, Elrond sat down to rest while keeping an eye on his friends. Without realizing it, he reached for his leg, which had begun to bleed again, and was now throbbing mercilessly.

Elrohir noticed his father's involuntary movement and brought new bandages and some tea with a pain drought, laced with a slight sedative. "Ada, let me re-bandage your leg, and please drink this tea. It will help with the pain, and allow you to rest."

Elrond pushed the cup away. "No, Elrohir, I must watch over them. It is my fault they are hurt so I must stay with them."

Elrohir forced back tears upon hearing his father speak like this. "What happened was not your fault! This could have happened to anyone. Glorfindel and Erestor would have been killed regardless of whether you gave the orcs your ring. You must rest yourself; otherwise, you will be in no shape to care for them when we arrive back home. Elladan and I can watch over them tonight, please."

Elrond knew his son was right, so after a little more coaxing, he finally relented and allowed his son to re-bandage his leg. He took the tea and drank it; after a few minutes, he began to feel the effects of the sedative and was soon asleep.

The twins sat vigilantly by their friends and father until the first light of day peeped over the horizon. Luckily the night had passed without any incidents with wild animals, orcs, or even Glorfindel and Erestor awakening. As soon as the evening wore off and morning crept in, the weather cleared up enough that the company could continue their ride home.

After Elladan had helped his father onto his horse, he went back to help his brother with Erestor and Glorfindel. Providentially, the fevers had not flared back up during the night, and they appeared to be breathing more easily. Once the injured elves were dressed and back on the stretchers, they went back to their horses and continued their journey back to Imladris.

The rest of the way home proved to be without problems. The weather had cleared up to show blue sky and sunshine later on, and within two days they had reached the borders of Imladris. Elladan blew his horn to alert Lindir of their return, and once they rode through the gates, they were immediately greeted by Lindir and several other healers, who hastily took Erestor, Glorfindel, and a reluctant Elrond himself back to the healing rooms.

Elrond was an excellent healer, but when it came to being treated himself, he was as bad as his sons! He insisted his leg was completely fine and that he was more than capable of tending to his friends himself. Lindariel, one of the head healers, would not let him up until she had checked him over from head to toe, and once she was satisfied that Elrond was not going to keel over on her, she gave him a clean bill of health. Elrond quickly got up, and after muttering to himself about female healers, their stubbornness and their subsequent need to poke and prod, he began to work on Glorfindel and Erestor.

The three ellyn spent the next two weeks watching over the two elf lords. On more than one occasion, both Erestor and Glorfindel decided they were going to try and pay Mandos a little visit, although never at the same time. So, needless to say, the three Peredhil were constantly kept on their toes.

After many sleepless nights and close calls, the two lords were finally out of danger, and Elrond and his sons could finally get some much-deserved rest. Elrond vowed to himself that once everyone was up and walking, he was going to make a visit to his good friend Thranduil, and drink himself into a coma for the next year!

As he took one last look at Glorfindel and Erestor to make sure they would be all right without him, he told Lindariel he was going to go to his rooms to get some much-needed rest and to please wake him if they woke up. He then headed to his chambers and joined his sons in a long siesta.


	10. Epilogue

One month had gone by since Erestor and Glorfindel were released from the healing ward. Erestor could not wait to get back to his work, and had just sat down to finish some reports that were long overdue when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he replied, not looking up from his work.

"Erestor!" came the response of one whom Erestor had not expected to hear so soon. Looking up, he saw the face of his longtime friend, Glorfindel. The seneschal had the look of one who had been thinking of something important but was not sure of how to proceed.

"Glorfindel, what are you doing here? I thought you would be out training the new recruits."

Glorfindel came in and sat down. He let out a deep sigh and looked up at his friend with barely concealed guilt in his eyes.

"I wanted to apologize to you for what happened."

Erestor started to interrupt, to try to convince his friend there was no need to apologize, but Glorfindel cut him off. "No, please let me say this."

He took a deep breath and began again. "I am sorry you were captured and tortured. I took you out to have an enjoyable time and to get a break from all your work. You have always been one to lock yourself up and not go out, and I wanted to show you how to have fun. Instead, we were attacked, captured, and tortured, and for that, I am so sorry. If I had been quicker, I could have stopped this from happening. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Erestor found himself speechless. He looked deep into his friend's eyes, and when he saw the pain and guilt, he had to fight back the tears. He was not one to show emotions, but leave it to Glorfindel to always find a way to break down his defenses!

Taking a deep breath, he put his hands on those of his friend's. "Glorfindel, I told you before that there was nothing to apologize for. I know you were only trying to help me, and I thank you for that. No one could have predicted that this would happen, but it did, and we got through it, and we are stronger because of it. I am sorry I froze when I did. If I had struck that warg down, you never would have been hurt, and perhaps things would have turned out differently. I forgive you, my friend, but can you forgive me for not acting when needed?"

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Aye, I forgive you, Erestor. You fought bravely for one who has supposedly never handled a sword!"

Erestor laughed. "Well, I wouldn't say I _never_ used a sword, but then again, one will be surprised at what they can do when forced to."

"Am I interrupting anything?" came a soft voice.

Erestor and Glorfindel both rose upon seeing Lord Elrond enter the room.

"No, please do not get up," Elrond intervened. "I only wished to speak to you for a few minutes before going to finish my rounds for the evening."

Erestor sat back down and motioned for Elrond to take a seat next to Glorfindel. "Of course, my lord. What is it you wanted to say?"

Like Glorfindel, Elrond was unsure of how to say what was on his mind. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "I wanted to tell you two I am so sorry for what you went through back at the orc camp because of me and my Ring. If anyone was tortured, it should have been me. I am the owner of Vilya, so I should have been the one to take the blows, not you. I know you told me not to say anything no matter what they did, but maybe if I had, you two would have been spared."

This time it was Glorfindel who reached out to place his hand on Elrond's shoulder. "Elrond, listen to me. You have nothing at all to apologize for! I cannot even begin to imagine what you went through watching Erestor and me back there. However, we all know full well what would have happened if you had told them what they wanted to know. The orcs would still have killed us, they would have gotten the Ring, and who knows what would have happened afterward. Do not apologize; we would not have expected anything less from you back there. I would go through all that again if it meant keeping the secret of Vilya safe."

"As would I, my friend," said Erestor as he rose to comfort his friend. "You have an enormous burden as it is, being a Ringbearer; do not carry the weight of guilt on you as well. All is well, and everything is as it should be again."

Elrond smiled in relief. "I am so lucky to have you two as friends! Thank you." A sudden sparkle lit his eyes. "So, when is your next adventure going to take place?" he joked.

Erestor jumped to his feet and glared at the two of them. "Are you two out of your immortal minds? I am never going on another adventure as long as I live! There is no way I am setting foot out there again! If you want to have an adventure, then by all means, you two feel free to do so, but I am staying here where I belong – with my books, my chess, and my endless amounts of paperwork! As it is, I am behind on the reports that should have been handled weeks ago." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Didn't I tell you that going would be a bad idea? I said I was the only one who was able to get everything taken care of and look – nothing got done!" He was almost hysterical, and Elrond began to worry that he would keel over from excitement.

Erestor let out a heavy sigh. "Now if you two will excuse me, I must get back to these reports so that they will be ready for our next meeting with Thranduil."

With that, he went back to his desk, sat down, and began working. Glorfindel and Elrond just glanced at one another, smiling, and left the room to allow Erestor to finish his work.

Yes, things were now back to normal, and neither of them could be happier.


End file.
